Cold
by Play For Kittens
Summary: Xander-Jessevamp, bad bad dead people. Not a happy one I'm afraid. Xander's POV.


I was gonna write Xander/Wes for Nari but this happened instead.  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
It's disturbing and upsetting and rather short...like Johnathon...

* * *

He's dead.  
  
I can't believe that. It doesn't sound right in my mind. He can't be dead - he's always been there, always there for me, my best friend in the whole world along with Willow. It's like a whole big part of me was torn off the moment I saw his face in that horrible dank little room.  
  
Vampires. How dare they take my friend? Jesse never did anything to harm anyone. Yeah, he was cheeky, and yeah he followed Cordelia around far too much to be healthy but he didn't deserve to die. Not the most horrible bully in the school deserves to die like that, having all your blood drained from your body.  
  
It's not even like I can say he's gone. 'Dead and gone', that's what they say isn't it? I wish I could say that too. But he's not. Somewhere, he's still walking around.  
  
Buffy, the new girl, tried to explain it to me. Before now, I had no idea vampires even existed, though the moment I saw the stake she dropped I'd sort of guessed - a lot of weird things go on here. I wish they didn't, but they do.  
  
Anyway, she was saying how vampires aren't the person they were when they were alive. It's just a demon wearing my best friend's skin. How dare they? Get their own fucking skin, Jesse's body isn't their property.  
  
But I'm not sure I believe her. Maybe it's something these 'Slayers' and 'Watchers' tell themselves to make killing them easier. 'Cause when I saw him, in the shadows, he smiled his secret smile he saved for me, cheeky and loving at the same time. His hand raised, his fingers wiggled, and he seemed more like Jesse than I could imagine.  
  
The way he walked was different, though. He strode away confidently, as though all cares had been lifted from his shoulders.  
  
I don't want to have to see that demon walking around again. I don't want to see Buffy reduce that perfect form to dust. It just isn't right.  
  
-------------------  
  
He came to me. Last night. He visited me in my room. I already knew vampires couldn't get in unless you invited them, yet the moment I saw him on the doorstep I stepped back and whispered 'come in'. I couldn't help it. I couldn't let him stand out there in the cold.  
  
I shouldn't have bothered. He embraced me and he felt as cold as the air outside. I left the door open, stood with my arms limp at my side as he kissed my forehead with cold lips.  
  
"Come on, Xander," he whispered. I shivered from the breeze of the outside air. His fingers touched my lips and that simple touch woke me from my trance-like state. I raised my eyes to look at him, and he smiled with a smile as full of ice as his fingertips. "Don't you want me?"  
  
"I always want you," I replied in a voice almost as quiet and emotionless as his. "You know that."  
  
"I know what you're thinking," he said in a slightly more audible voice. "But do I look dead to you?"  
  
"Buffy said-"  
  
"She's lying," he interrupted. "Whatever she said, she's lying. Yeah, evil, but superpowers! It's so cool! It's like all of those comics we read together. Remember that?"  
  
"How could I forget?"  
  
He kissed me then. A cold touch at first but after a while my own heat warmed his skin enough for me to respond. I pushed the door shut with the heel of my foot and sighed softly into the kiss, the gentle kiss that felt so familiar. My lips opened automatically as I tried to keep my mind blank, enjoy the well-known yet oddly different sensations as he kissed me deeper, my own mouth almost unresponsive. My hands felt heavy at my side.  
  
I felt cold skin slip down my chest, under the material to touch me. I broke the kiss and looked at him with the smallest shake of my head. "Upstairs," I muttered.  
  
He stayed with me until the sun rose. We were silent, no sound beyond quiet gasps and words of empty affection passing through our busy lips. I tried not to notice how different he tasted and smelt, how much stronger and less caring he was - and that this was bordering on necrophilia.   
  
Bad, bad thoughts.  
  
When he left me the bed felt empty again, completely empty as if I wasn't there either. It hurt, but I knew that was goodbye. A proper goodbye to the best friend I'd ever loved.  
  
-------------------  
  
I staked him. I can't get over it. I put a big sharp wooden object through Jesse's unbeating heart.  
  
I'll never see him again. Suddenly, I find myself not caring.  
  
Yeah, I'll miss the real Jesse, the one who cuddled and kissed me better when someone was mean, who read comics with me and let me share the cookies his mother made. But that Jesse would always be blocked by the memory of the dead thing that shared my bed, the memory of his cold touch to match his icy eyes.   
  
I'd never forget that.  
  
I wished I could.  
  
Now Buffy expects us to just get on with everyday life like nothing happened. I'm sorry but I can't do that. I'll get revenge on the thing that did this to Jesse if I have to kill every fucking vampire in the entire town, and beyond.   
  
I want the good memories back. Not these horrible empty images.   
  
I want Jesse back. 


End file.
